


God Among Idiots

by LaughingLizzie



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Gen, One Shot, One Word Prompts, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-01-10 03:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12289854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingLizzie/pseuds/LaughingLizzie
Summary: A series of one word prompts set around our favourite mage, Kefka Palazzo in a whole heap of wacky situations, ranging from a simple scrape to the torture of entire families.





	1. Pain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dragon_MoonX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_MoonX/gifts).



> (Some seriously good writing right there folks!)

Any type of injury sent Kefka into a fury small or large. Soldiers old and new were specially trained to try and deal with his tantrums.

Today was one of those days the magician had a small scrape from where he tripped and was now cursing and carrying on like a young child nobody wanted to act, acting too soon could mean imminent death by frying to death from one of his fireballs Kefka already had an impressive body count and no one wanted to join his figures to just be another number, the madman remembered more than those who died by his hands, and that thought made them sick to their stomachs and here he was a thirty-three year old screaming about a sore knee probably oblivious to the crimes he’s committed on his own country he’s served for years.

“What do we do?” A soldier, a younger one not fully aware of Kefkas antics his cause of death seemed to be written on his face, burnt to death by the crazed Kefka.

“Just wait if he gets too out of hand then we’ll try and subdue him.”

“You mean it’s not already out of hand?” The young one pointed at the magician who was still playing out.

“Hold where you are and wait.” The older one barked out.

The younger one obeyed and stood his ground still apprehensive about the threat that was Kefkas tantrum.

“Ruined my knee! That was a good knee as well! I’ll freaking set fire to the entire planet the world shall be put to death because of the injustice this knee has faced!” people who faintly heard him looked on in disbelief.

“He’s just speaking off nonsense.”

“This is normal if he’s not hurling fireballs at us then something is most definitely wrong.”

The frown that Kefka held in place seemed a million times more terrifying then the near psychotic grin that was usually placed across his face.

Finally, after minutes cursing at his scrape he calmly walked up to the pair of soldiers.

“Do either of you have a band aid or something?”


	2. Look

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got bored in class and decided to write this one sorry if it's not that good.

Returning home from another mission the emperor had set for him. Kefka was itching to get home the smell of burning flesh could be soothing but sometimes the comforts of home is what he really needs. Coming back to Terra taking his claw like nails and stroking her hair, letting the red polish chip while combing through it calmed him. Those were probably the only times when he was truly was at peace, whether he was bouncing off the walls or trying to shut out the shattered fragments in his mind screaming at him. Terra in some strange way to Kefka seemed like a beacon of innocence, she wasn’t blind though she knew what the empire was raising her for, a living weapon the only naturally born magic user in the world. 

Sneaking in the house in the dead of night proved to be challenging to Kefka who couldn’t go more than five minutes without making any kind of noise, most commonly it was laughing, it was like a nervous tic in that sense it was the easiest way to describe it before setting fire to the person he was describing it to.

While sneaking through the dark rooms he took note of the strange lump moving up and down in a breathing pattern, in an instant his mind clicked into action he knew who it was. General Leo here to assassinate him for his own pleasure, well two could play at that game and one of the two had magic on his side. He had a plan which was basically a surprise ambush and having Leo going up in a swarm of fire. 

Having no time to think of consequences and frankly not caring about them, jumping over to where the lump was screaming something that even surprised him a little. The lump which was now starting to look a little feminine started screeching at him. 

“Kefka! Kefka! Wait stop! It’s me Terra!” 

“How do I know you’re not Leo? And you’re just really good at imitating people!” He shouted back. He was ready to make this slightly feminine looking lump of Leo into no more than bones and ashes. 

“If you just look for a second.” The voice sounded terrified.

He thought about it for a second and did so, putting his arm to his side and looked at the lump not finding Leo ready the stab him in various places but instead Terra cowering in fear.

“Oh, that makes more sense to what I thought was going on.” 

“What did you think was going on?” She seemed slightly frustrated rather than mad. 

“Leo sneaking in here and trying to assassinate me.” He mumbled ashamed.

Terra put her hands in her head, sighed then let out a small huff of amusement she couldn’t hold it in. 

“Kefka, I was waiting for you to come home, where did you think I was if Leo was in my normal spot?”

“I didn’t think.” 

Another sigh escaped her lips “It’s late. Anyway, promise me you won’t cause any damages while I’m asleep.” 

“Yeah, and I’m sorry about this I didn’t want to scare you.” Kefka mumbled. Terra barely heard him but she gave a quick nod and left him in the dark.

 

General Leo was sleeping soundly it was the only time where he could get any semblance of quiet, some days it felt like half his job was babysitting for Kefka making sure he didn’t set fire to the entire palace.

He shifted in his bed he had woken up from his deep sleep and was now feeling extremely uncomfortable a knot appeared in the bottom of his stomach, he didn’t want to open his eyes but he remained vigilante to all sounds. The one that sounded like various kinds of fabrics rubbing together made him especially nervous because there was only one person in the empire who sounded like that.

“Leo.” The voice growled.

The General stiffened he didn’t move a muscle didn’t even dare to breath. 

“Don’t you ever try to sneak into my living quarters and pretend to be Terra again.” He then heard the sounds of the fabrics slinking to the back of his room and eventually out the door.  
Leo then shot up, finally able to breathe normally.

“What the fuck?”


	3. Melodramatic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm very tired...
> 
> But anyway thank you drama class for making me think of this. And curiously enough Betty Boop cartoons. (Real helpful to my education.)

A collection of dolls lined up his walls, most uninformed people would assume they belonged to the young girl who carried magic to keep her entertained during her time in which nothing happened. Those uninformed people would’ve been slapped in the face by their true owner, the loud flamboyant clown man and hopefully that person had the sense knocked into them when the hand made contact onto their face and leave the said loud flamboyant clown man before he cut off their head and used it as a throwing ball. 

Kefka himself was proud of his collection, he was also quite proud about his ability to clear out a room with his behaviour, so the next step on his logic was being able to combine the two. People had seen him fiddling around with his dolls in public places, everyone quickly became adjusted to this so he had to go further with his eccentricities.

He basically started to preform small puppet shows with his dolls.

He spent hours in his room getting it just right, waiting to perform the stories he lovingly crafted to his adoring public, which usually meant the half cleared out room people who knew where it was going, and others who wanted to witness the madness in person so they could spread out their stories amongst the ranks of faceless soldiers among the empire.

Pieces of paper were spread everywhere, scrapped ideas and scenes filled those papers, others which he particularly liked were pinned up along the walls so eyewitnesses could have a peek as so what goes on in his mind. Frantic was the only word to describe it, the pages always seemed hastily written even though he claimed it took him hours, days, precious minutes wasted of his time to finish one piece of written work ‘worthy of my performance talents.’ 

Today was one of his performance days and no one was looking forward to it.

Cleaning up the messes Kefka made always seemed pointless, he would always make an even bigger one in the same spot forcing them to clean again. The biggest mess though was Kefka himself. Some instances of his enjoyment in his performances he got so far zoned into some he never stopped to consider his own personal appearance which he was so proud of, which to others could be a warning sign whether he was suffering from too much enjoyment or he was too enraged to care and on a rare occasion he was a combination of both. His garish makeup was melting off his face making Kefka look even more horrific than before, the feathers that were neatly placed in his hair looked as though they were about to fall out at any second, his clothing was in disarray, his sleeves were crumpled, pieces of fabric on his body which looked as though they were haphazardly stitched together seemed like they could drop off at a moments notice. 

It was the moment everyone knew about whether witnessed or told in hushed whispers, a 'grand finale' by Kefkas standards. If anybody could follow through with the plots he’d written, they seemed black and white a classic tale of good vs evil, then everything went down starting with the last battle and ending with everyone dying. This one ended like any other, the grandiose room smouldering and everyone’s nostrils filled with the chemical scent of burnt doll hair. 

The room echoed with his manic cackling, it seemed to bounce into everyone's eardrums making them all shudder in fear.

“That was better than the last one! I'm getting started on the next one. You're all cleaning this up by the way.”

Celes seemed to speak up first, "we're not cleaning up the mess you made Kefka."

"You are. We're all in agreement so ta-ta!"

Leaving the remaining people in the room speechless as they watched Kefka childishly skip out the room.


	4. Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm trying something out of my depth, I feel as though I'm usually a comedic writer. But I guess i'm just in the serious mood today. Oh well, brought this out of the corner of my mind, and it made me want to actually finish this.

The glowing white snow that mounded up on the ground, made the colour pop that was Kefka even more noticeable. Sticking out in a plain background was something Kefka could do brilliantly, it was something that made him feel truly unique within the empire. The snow blended in nicely with the white of his makeup making his eyes and mouth appear more inhuman, like a strange creature that looked human far away, but the closer you got the further you needed to run. Kefka seemed at peace in that moment, keeping himself warm with his numerous layers of clothing, huddling his knees and hunching forward staring off into the distance, only he would know what was going on in his head. It was hell. He couldn’t externalise what was going on, so he kept it all internal, his behaviours were not in his control, something ordered him around making Kefka a puppet in the grander sense, he wasn't what he truly wished to be.

“Snow makes everything seem to be in between life and death, in a form of non-chemical stasis.” Kefka knew nobody heard him, but he felt as though he needed to make the statement.

“Do you think if we changed the chemical makeup of snow it could make things die with a single touch, instead of just putting it in frozen preservation over a sense of time?” His fingers went out to hold a falling snowflake it melted within a manner of seconds.

_Why did you say that Kefka?_

Kefka looked around. There wasn't anything to see apart from the blinding white light of the snow. He hated the colourless environment of winter, it seemed boring. The only time Kefka really showed any type of fondness for the snow was when a patch of red could be clearly seen. The conclusion Kefka came to was that he was the one behind the mysterious patch, he didn't remember it though.

That voice though, it sounded like Terra.  

_Surely you don’t mean what you say._

He responded back aloud.

“I don’t know, some days it feels like my words are all I have for people to actually listen to me without an absurd amount of violence.” He felt ashamed for saying that, he had no reason to, but he did it was as though some part of him was lying and he wasn't consciously aware of the truth.

_Are you happy with that?_

Was this voice trying to guilt him? He was ashamed of his words. He never felt anything for the actions he took though, they always seemed like the morally just thing to do to get him to where he wanted to be, in a position of power. Which he deserved. After the injections he was supposed to be the perfect weapon, and a grand position should reflect the immense power he now possessed.

“I’m happy. There’s no outward indication of me not being.”

_Is that why you’re huddled in the snow?_

“I needed time, not an interrogation from an invisible being about my imaginary internal struggle.” He was getting more agitated, he was gazing into the palms of his hands as if to find an answer. Why was he here? What was the purpose?

“I just wanted to feel in control.”

_Isn’t that the point behind the random acts of unspeakable horror amongst your fellow ranks?_

“That might be it, there might not be a clear reason behind anything I do. Maybe I’m just the embodiment of all things chaotic.”

He couldn’t tell but Kefka had the feeling that the voice was searching for something to say. There didn’t seem to be a point to these questions, he could just leave and ignore this voice never fully understanding why he did the things he did, in favour of a simple shrug claiming that he was simply a puppet in the bigger scheme of things, or just saying there was no purpose to anything. 

_“Don’t you feel guilty?”_

He knew that this was the question the entire conversation was building up to. Kefka didn’t have an answer, and he didn’t give one. Instead he let out a low throaty laugh, it was bizarre to hear this out of him instead of his usual manic giggle, this seemed like a cry for help rather than a laugh of genuine amusement.

There was nothing. The voice didn’t answer back, Kefka’s low laugh turned into shrieks of high pitched cackling. He was a colourful dot alone in the barren wasteland of snow.  


End file.
